Noor ad Deen hearkened to the fair Persian with a smile:  and when she had done, “My charmer,” said he, with the same air of gaiety, “say no more of that; let us talk of nothing but mirth and pleasure.  In my father’s lifetime I was always under restraint; and I am now resolved to enjoy the liberty I so much sighed for before his death.  It will be time enough for me hereafter to think of leading the sober, regular life you talk of; and a man of my age ought to taste the pleasures of youth.”

What contributed still more to the ruin of Noor ad Deen’s fortune, was his unwillingness to reckon with his steward; for whenever he brought in his accounts, he still sent him away without examining them:  “Go, go,” said he, “I trust wholly to your honesty; only take care to provide good entertainments for my friends.”

“You are the master, sir,” replied he, “and I but the steward; however, you would do well to think upon the proverb, ‘He that spends much, and has but little, must at last insensibly be reduced to poverty.’  You are not contented with keeping an extravagant table, but you must lavish away your estate with both hands:  and were your coffers as large as mountains, they would not be sufficient to maintain you.”  “Begone,” replied Noor ad Deen, “I want not your grave lessons; only take care to provide good eating and drinking, and trouble your head no farther about the rest.”

In the meantime, Noor ad Deen’s friends were constant guests at his table, and never failed to take advantage of the easiness of his temper.  They praised and flattered him, extolling his most indifferent actions; but, above all, they took particular care to commend whatever belonged to him; and in this they found their account.  “Sir,” said one of them, “I came the other day by your estate that lies in such a place; nothing can be so magnificent or so handsomely furnished as your house; and the garden belonging to it is a paradise upon earth.”  “I am very glad it pleases you,” replied Noor ad Deen:  “bring me pen, ink, and paper; without more words, it is at your service; I make you a present of it.”  No sooner had others commended one of his houses, baths, or public buildings erected for the use of strangers, the yearly revenue of which was very considerable, than he immediately gave them away.  The fair Persian could not forbear stating to him how much injury he did himself; but, instead of paying any regard to her remonstrances, he continued his extravagances, and the first opportunity that offered, squandered away the little he had left.

In short, Noor ad Deen did nothing for a whole year but feast and make merry, wasting and consuming, with the utmost prodigality, the great wealth that his predecessors, and the good vizier his father, had with so much pains and care acquired and preserved.

The year was but just expired, when a person one day knocked at the door of the hall, where he and his friends were at dinner together by themselves, having sent away the slaves, that they might enjoy the greater liberty.